


An Emergency Case

by Shadows_of_Fire_and_Blood



Series: Roads Less Walked [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC
Genre: F/M, Family, Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Mentions of Child Loss, Mentions of miscarriage, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sibling bickering, hopefully not too angst-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29426076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadows_of_Fire_and_Blood/pseuds/Shadows_of_Fire_and_Blood
Summary: Sherlock, in a moment of desperation, call on his older brother for help.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Roads Less Walked [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156862
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone who's thinking of asking where this came from, I have no idea lol  
> I hope my readers enjoy nonetheless.

**SH-** Baker Street, Now.

**_MH - I’m busy_ **

**SH-** Emergency

Ten minutes after the last text had been sent, Mycroft quickly took the steps up to 221B Baker street, adjusted the door knocker as he always did - however unconscious the action was, and hastily made his way up the stairs to his brothers flat.

He hadn’t yet reached the flat itself when Mycroft heard sounds of distress from inside, hell, if Sherlock had started using again…

But as Mycroft entered the flat, barely gripping to his outwardly calm facade in his concerned state, what he came upon was so far from what the government worker had expected that he just...stared.

Sherlock was sitting on the sofa, in black sweats, white shirt and blue dressing gown, hands over his ears, elbows in his knees, clearly hoping to prevent the ear piercing cries of the infant strapped into the car seat that was set on the coffee table in front of him from damaging his ear-drums.

Sherlock immediately noticed his brothers presence and stood up

“Took you long enough, bad traffic?” 

Easily avoiding the car seat, Sherlock stepped up and the table. Mycroft set his umbrella against the wall near the door

“Well, what is this emergency, Sherlock?” he demanded

Sherlock pointed to the wailing infant without a word.

With a sardonic smirk Mycroft looked from Sherlock to the child and back again

“I know Johns has been complaining about the eyeballs in the refrigerator but I hardly think recruiting live infants for experimentation is a better alternative” he commented - slightly louder in order to be heard over the babys’ cries.

Sherlock rolled his eyes dramatically 

“Where did you steal it from in the first place?” Mycroft asked, looking over over the child as it continued to cry.

Sherlock paced the flat

“Thats’ Rosie - Johns baby!” he snapped

Mycroft made n expression of understanding

“And the problem?” he inquired

Sherlock gestured

“Has working for goldfish deafened you entirely, Mycroft or is it selective?” 

All the while, the child hadn’t stopped crying.

Mycroft stood straight

“Very well, then i shall rephrase - How is this _my_ problem?” 

Sherlock paced back to the sofa

“She hasn’t stopped for over an hour!”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, leaning on his umbrella which was plated between his feet

“Sherlock _,_ how is this my issue? I had several meetings which have now had to be rescheduled because you claimed to need my assistance” he said in a clipped tone, becoming irritated with the noise as well as his brothers’ attitude.

Sherlock approached him

“Because if my sanity must suffer so must yours, big brother!” he stated. 

Mycroft gave his brother a murderous look at Sherlock

“If you do not coherently explain why you called me in the middle of a very busy working day, brother mine, I shall be forced to place a threat on your life - and you understand that my position in Government more than allows me to carry out this threat” he said dangerously.

Sherlock sighed and gestured at the crying baby

“John had to go into work, Molly is jugular deep in a fresh corpse and Mrs Hudson is visiting her sister” he explained briefly. 

“You’ve had more experience with them than I do!” Oops.

The look Mycroft gave him made Sherlock lower his eyes with an uncomfortable pause that could have been sliced with a knife

“Sorry, meant me. bad wording” he apologized, brief but sincere 

Mycroft flashed his brother a venomous smile which only lasted for a moment

“I wonder why people have such a difficult time offering you their help?” Mycroft asked rhetorically 

The crying hadn’t subsided and Mycroft grimaced

“Have you fed her?” Mycroft asked, his tone slightly softer than previously but distant and cold, walling the emotions that had been brought to the surface by Sherlocks comment.

Sherlock moved back to the couch, unstrapping little Rosie from her seat, he lifted her out, holding her with a surprising amount of practiced confidence. 

“Obviously! Really, brother?” he retorted

He attempted to bounce the infant on his hip, hoping to sooth her cries, to no avail.

Mycroft shrugged

“Well, I am the smart one Sherlock, sometimes it is the most plainly obvious which somehow gets missed” he defended.

Sherlock however was busy peering as Rosie, moving his head as though trying to spot something, but with the child crying and waving her tiny fists it was difficult 

“Hey, come on now Watson, just…” Sherlock easily dodged the uncoordinated attack - which he of course knew was not intentional, he just happened to be in the firing line of the frustrated infants flailing arms.

Mycroft frowned

“Sherlock, what are you doing _now_?” he asked, exasperated

Sherlock glared at him, once more insinuating that his brother was being ‘obvious’ again

“John mentioned she was ‘teething’, It might be what's' bothering her'' he suggested

Sherlock firmly but gently took Rosies’ tiny wrists, holding her still and trying to check the crying childs’ gums, made easier by the fact that her mouth was open as she sobbed.

Sherlock finished his deduction and released Rosies' fists, she had made her displeasure known by actually ceasing her screaming and simply grunted in frustration and tried to struggle, holding her still but with care, Sherlock was able to maneuver the babys' jaw open enough to peer inside with a mild grimace 

“Mild swelling, minuscule evidence of blood- Ow!” the detective yelled, flinched, automatically tugging his finger free from where Rosie had bitten down, the surprising amount of pain that flair in his finger almost made him drop Rosie and without thinking - for once, Mycroft darted forward

“For goodness sake Sherlock!” he scolded, taking Rosie from his younger sibling

Sherlock shook his hand, hissing through his teeth

“Ow” he complained again

This left Mycroft now holding Rosie - surprisingly well for someone who insisted they were no good with babies, or humans in general. Ignoring the fact that he’d dropped his umbrella rather loudly to the thin carpeted floor, Mycroft rolled his eyes

“Grow up, Sherlock. You’ve been high as a bloody kite, you’ve been shot, you’ve been beaten to within an inch of your life…”

Sherlock, finally taking his attention from his bitten finger to his brother interrupted 

“Yes, can we stop talking about my childhood for a moment and focus on her(?)” he argued, gesturing to Rosie with his previously bitten hand, only to dramatically recoil as Rosie, now back to crying, tilted her head in his direction.

Mycroft once again felt the need to roll his eyes, trying to hold Rosie as he’d watched Sherlock doing

“Sherlock, she is an infant not an Amazonian piranha!” he mocked sternly

Sherlock however simply stared at him, having stepped back several paces in his over-dramatic recoil, covering his ears for a moment

“Infant Banshee, maybe.” he grumbled, he’d never heard Rosie screaming like this…

“Hang on…” Sherlock gestured to his sibling

“You...how are you doing that?” he demanded over Rosies crying

Mycroft frowned incomprehensibly and Sherlock made a face of disgusted confusion

“ _That_ , you...baby..with the....holding!” he stammered , waving his arms frantically 

Mycroft smirked

“And here I thought it was the good Doctor who insisted on pointing out the obvious. You forget the seven year age difference Sherlock? I was completely competent at child-handling by the time you were two weeks old” he boasted before he could re-thinking the words he was uttering.

Rosies cries had quietened at least yet she was still far from silent and content

Sherlock groaned, rubbing his temples

“If this goes on for much longer I may consider shooting myself - Oh!” Sherlock suddenly darted past Mycroft to all but tackle the baby of Rosies things from the cluttered kitchen table. Mycroft, who had moved half an inch to avoid Sherlock running him and Rosie over, sighed

“Sherlock running around like a headless chicken is hardly helping! And were it not for an already crying infant being in the vicinity I’d seriously condenser letting you go through with it!” 

Sherlock was busy digging around in the bag however, with a triumphant cry he held up a brightly colored rubber teething ring in one hand.

“Watch and Learn, brother” he stated, smugly.

Throwing the ring into the air and catching it, Sherlock strut back across the room and, meeting Mycrofts’ eye tauntingly, the detective bent to offer it to Rosie, who paused, hiccuping twice before reaching for the bright toy and taking it with chubby inquisitive fingers, biting into it several times. 

Sherlocks' smug grin fell instantly as the ring, now sufficiently covered in baby saliva, was promptly thrown at his forehead where it bounced and thudded to the floor with Rosie beginning to cry yet again.

Sherlock glanced to his right

“Yeah OK, mission failed, next!” he shot up and marched back to the sofa, trying to ignore the superior smirk Mycroft gave him, no doubt taking glee in his brothers failed attempt at soothing the crying child. 

After passing the child between them for another 20 minutes, things had yet to improve, and Rosie was making herself hoarse from crying. Her face red and blotchy. 

Mycroft, had removed his jacket and waistcoat to roll up his shirt sleeves as he paced about the flat with Rosie.

Sherlock stepped up onto the sofa

“So hows Mel?” Sherlock suddenly inquired over the whines of discontent from Rosie

Mycroft, who had now resorted to doing as Sherlock had done and was bouncing Rosie on his hip to try and quieten her

“Sherlock, what on earth has that…”

Gaining a long look from Sherlock, Mycroft realized what he was inferring

“Ah, right....better yes. In fact she took over babysitting duty from Miss Hopper several times after the late Mrs Watson fled the country shortly before the Aquarium...incident” he pointed out, trying to stop Rosie biting down on his tie.

The brothers came to the same conclusion in that moment 

Sherlock proved himself faster however 

“Not it!” 

Mycroft attempted to do the same, too late

“Not- Damn it!” 

Sherlock grinned and took Rosie from Mycroft

“Please brother, John would throw a fit if we taught her such language” he said before addressing Rosie

“There we go, Watson, bet you’re freezing after being held so close to the Iceman!” he teased.

Mycroft looked up from pressing the speed dial on his phone, his expression telling his brother just how unimpressed he was at Sherlocks’ jibes.

After several rings, as was expected, a clear, feminine voice answered, being on speaker-phone, Sherlock could hear her also

“Hello love” 

At the other end of the line, sitting with her feet up, a box of Belgian chocolates in her lap and a glass of white wine on the table, Melody smiled upon answering her husbands call.

Mycroft lifted his free hand to rub his forehead

“Yes, hello, dear...listen…” he started, only for Melody to interrupted, to his silent irritation 

“What’s that noise? What have you done to those politicians this time, My?” she joked, referring to the crying in the background before taking a small sip of her drink

Mycroft tucked a hand in his jacket pocket

“Most amusing, my dear, but Sherlock, for god knows what reason, has been entrusted with the care of Dr. Watsons’ daughter, and is incapable of consoling her…”he started.

Sherlock was pacing the flat with Rosie, trying to calm, comfort or distract her - nothing was working...

Melody meanwhile, put aside her chocolates and sat up, crossing her legs

“So, why are you there…I thought you had a day packed with meetings?” she asked, genuinely confused. 

So, Mycroft was forced to explain the situation of their being no-one else available and how Sherlock had resorted to calling on him for assistance...surely a hint of just how severe the situation was.

There was a long pause, in fact Mycroft was sure she was going to hang up, but the sound of Melody laughing at them down the phone interrupted that theory.

With Melody cackling down the phone line, Mycroft lowered his phone to his side, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment before raising the device to be level with his mouth once more

“My dear...Will you just…-Melo-Melod- _Melody_!” 

Meanwhile, Melody continued laughing, curling over herself, almost to the point of falling off of the sofa.

Mycroft tried again, all the unnecessary noise from little Rosie was enough, let alone the fit-to-bursting laughter he was getting from his wife

“If you’re quite finished…” he snapped.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Melody chuckled, biting her lip

“Yep, sorry, so...what do you want me to do about it?” she giggled.

Since she had at least attempted to stifle it, Mycroft didn’t comment

“Sherlock seems to think the child is teething, which is apparently enough cause for her to scream the flat into oblivion” he said.

Melody cleared her throat, calming herself from her laughing fit, leaning back in her seat

“Right, well does she have any teething toys with her?” she asked

Mycroft sighed 

“Yes we tried that, the strength of her throwing arm is apparently as defined as her lung development - since she salivated all over it and threw it at Sherlocks' forehead”

This gained another peel of laughter from Melody, and Sherlock glared at the device in his brothers’ hand as though hoping Melody would feel his irritation through the phone.

Melody regained control of herself after just a few seconds however

“Right, well make sure you sanitize it - I don’t think Rosie has had her vaccinations yet. I’m assuming you fed her, changed, tried to put her to sleep, everything obvious, yes?” 

Mycroft nodded once

“Quite so” 

Melody took a sip of her wine

“So what are you expecting me to contribute here?” she asked with a small gesture of the hand holding her glass.

Mycroft wondered how many times he had rolled his eyes in the past hour alone

“You have experience with this child, Melody” he started, not unkindly

“I think you know what I am asking” he added firmly

Melody took a chocolate from the box on the table and lifted it to her lips

“Oh yes, I’d just love to hear you actually say it” she said suggestively

Mycroft hung his head

“Melody, this is serious…” 

Although even he had to admit how feeble this sounded - the British Government and the worlds’ only Consulting detective, unable to handle a teething baby was certainly an absurdity. But that was the situation nonetheless

“Point taken” he admitted though Melody had said nothing

Meanwhile, his wife bit into the chocolate between her thumb and finger

“Go on, love - say it!” she pleaded, making sure to squirm in her seat deliberately, knowing her husband would hear her and instantly know what she was doing.

Sherlock, who had made about four slow laps of the entire flat by now, with the bawling baby,walked past the living room windows with a confused expression.

Mycroft shifted

“Melody, honestly this is hardly…”

He tried to put her off Melody said loudly

“Ok, bye...say hello to Sherlock for me!” she chimed, only for Mycroft stop her

“Melody don’t you dare!” he warned, knowing she was about to hang up

Melody rolled over to rest on her stomach along the length of the sofa

“Say it” she insisted. 

Mycroft, pursed his lips, defeated but desperate, grumbled his answer out of Sherlocks hearing

Melody however wasn’t going to let him off so lightly

“Can’t hear you, I think your signal is going…” she sang tauntingly

Mycroft grit his teeth, seeing that he had no choice

“Melody, my love...please? I need you.” he said, slightly louder and in as even a tone as he could manage

Sherlock gave his brother an odd look, but when Melody deliberately made an extremely suggestive sound that would put Irene Adler to shame, Mycroft winced, knowing Sherlock would never let him live this down - but Sherlock, with Rosie still crying in his arms, looked thoroughly disgusted and moved away from his brother with unnecessarily large, quick steps, edging around Mycroft to go back to the kitchen -putting further distance between them as Melody spoke

“Hm, You’ve no idea what that does to me…” she flirted shamelessly

Mycroft gripped his phone tighter

“Melody I believe you have made yourself unarguably clear to not only myself and Sherlock, but I should think the entirety of the’ Cafe next door as well” he said sternly

“Now are you going to get down to Baker Street and assist us?” he demanded

There was a moment of silence as Melody, still lying on her stomach and singing her elevated legs lazily, took a sip of her wine

“Nope, sorry,. I’ve got a date with a box of Belgian praline chocolates - have fun though, see if there is any baby-friendly gum ointment in her bag, and give Sherlock my love!” 

Before she could hang up Sherlock had shoved the baby into Mycrofts’ arms and taken his phone

“Yeah, hey sis, next time you’re going to not help, don’t force me to endure your phone sex session, next time” he said with a dead-pan expression.

Melody began laughing once more, though not quite as hysterically and hung up. Mycroft stood by the fireplace of 221B, bouncing Rosie, though it was clear this was still proving ineffective, and rubbing her back. Mycroft was certain that a vein in his head was going to burst any second, with the closest thing to a dumbfounded expression on his face

“Look,, go and check her bag for anything else that might be of use!” he snapped

Sherlock did so, still griping about Melody and Mycrofts shared phone call

“Couldn't at least taken it off the bloody speakerphone” he grunted, hardly being heard over Rosies' cries.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melody comes to Sherlock and Mycrofts' rescue

Humming under her breath, Melody climbed the steps leading to 221B and, opening the door she was shocked by what she found. The flat was even more of a bomb-site than usual, with assorted baby necessities, toys and paraphernalia strewn around the place, including a bottle of baby calpol medicine and a tube of baby friendly gum ointment on the coffee table.

Sherlock sprawled along the length of the sofa, one arm thrown over the back rest, the other arm dangling over the edge of the seat along with his opposing arm, a stuffed toy bear resting on his chest.

Mycroft on the other hand was resting back in Sherlocks' chair - apparently asleep and supporting Rosie, who was sleeping on her stomach against his chest, with one hand. Both brothers seemed to be fast asleep after collapsing from exhaustion.

Silently, Melody retrieved her phone and selected the camera screen. Her husband however, interrupted without so much as moving, let alone look up

“Melody Holmes is you so much as think about it i shall have you exiled to Antarctica” 

Melody pouted and lowered the hand holding her camera

“Spoil-sport” she commented, moving to sit on the arm rest of the chair her husband occupied

“I felt bad about not coming to the rescue of the British Government...But by the looks of it you have everything under control” she added, softly stroking Rosies chubby cheek with her index finger, careful not to wake her.

Mycroft, still holding Rosie to him with one hand, wrapped his free arm around his wifes’ back, despite the contented smile that graced her features, he didn’t miss the flashes of sadness and longing in her eyes - she always tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but there was no denying it.

Melody glanced at Mycroft with a forced smile before turning to sherlock - only just realizing that the detective actually had a dummy in his mouth!

This she had to preserve and Melody quickly snapped a photo on her phone

“This is so going on Twitter” she grinned darkly.

Mycroft said nothing - neither encouraging or discouraging her plan. Melody got to her feet and went over to her brother in law

“SHERLOCK WAKE UP” she called

This wasn’t loud enough to disturb the sleeping baby but enough to wake Sherlock, who jolted awake, too busy trying to get his bearings to save himself from rolling of off the sofa and landing at Melodys’ feet as she stepped back an inch or so, dropping the dummy from his mouth in the process.

Grinning, the copper haired woman crossed her arms

“Hello, Sherlock” she smiled pleasantly, softening her voice to a more appropriate decibel 

Glaring, Sherlock rolled to his hands and knees to glide to his feet

“Mel, three hours late.” he said, stalking past her to go to the kitchen.

As Mycroft sat up with Rosie, Melody saw her beginning to wake up, so she reached down and scooped the baby into her arms

Seeing that was indeed waking, Mycroft tensed, expecting another screaming fit from the little bra- child. But after several seconds, the baby simply rubbed her eye and yawned with barely a sound, content to go back to sucking her thumb, old enough to support herself, with some support from Melody, just in case, Rosie leant back just enough to look up at Melody with wide, innocent eyes.

Melody smiled softly

“Hello sweetheart, did you have fun with Uncle Sherlock and Uncle MYcroft?” she crooned.

Adjusting her hold to more securely support the small child, who did some sort of impression of a nod, and a squawk of laughter, unconscious but conveniently timed and Melody laughed at the apparent confirmation. 

Sherlock made his way back to the sofa, armed with a warm baby bottle which he thrust into Melodys’ free hand

“There, you take over till John gets back” he ordered

Melody gave an accepting smile and didn’t argue, instead she made herself comfortable; sitting cross-legged on the floor with her back resting against the front of Johns’ armchair and settling Rosie down to feed her the bottle.

Mycroft meanwhile rubbed his hands over his face, even the meetings of Whitehall didn’t leave him feeling this exhausted!

But as he sat forward to watch Melody sit with Rosie and begin to feed her, Mycroft paused, allowing a rare gentle smile to cross his features. Melody was silent, and made no sign of acknowledging him, instead her gaze was fixed on the baby, watching Rosie with a loving expression Mycroft had seen only once.

It was similar to the look she gave their baby as she lay, still and silent in Melodys’ arms in the hospital, this time however, it was different, less full of the pain and heartbreak Melody had obviously felt while holding the cold, lifeless body of their own child. Mycroft felt an unwarranted, unwanted twist in his gut as he looked upon the sight in-front of him, he pushed it aside however, because Melodys’ smile widened as Rosie patted a tiny chubby hand to the back of Melodys’ own, which held the baby bottle patiently as she bottle fed Rosie Watson..

John hurried up the stair, dreading what he was going to find upon returning home, he couldn’t say he exactly...distrusted Sherlock with Rosie, but...well, the man did store eyeballs and cigarettes in the most random places around the flat, though Sherlock had gotten better since John and Rosie moved back in.

Entering 221B, the doctor found Mycroft in Sherlocks’ armchair with a cup of tea, Sherlock passed out fast asleep on the sofa, and no Rosie! But when John opened his mouth to speak, Mycroft put a finger to his own lips with a deadly stare that John knew better than to disobey. Following Mycrofts’ gaze, John looked around the door frame into the kitchen.

Melody was walking slowly in front of the sink, walking back and forth between the matching counters either side of the kitchen with Rosie safely in her arms. Rosie was awake but silent, kneading tiny fingers into the material of Melodys’ t-shirt as the woman sang to her; a wordless vocalized lullaby John didn’t recognize.

Giving Mycroft an understand look, the elder Holmes nodded in gratitude, offering a thumbs up to the Holmes brothers, one awake, one asleep, clutching Rosies’ toy bear, John left without a word - nothing wrong with giving Melody another half an hour with Rosie, so John went next door to Speedys’ cafe for a late dinner.

Back inside 221B, Melody cuddled Rosie close, tucking the childs’ head under her chin, rocking ehr slowly as she waited for the baby to fall asleep, the scent of baby powder and fresh linen filled Melodys’ nose, making her heart ache just a bit more, but even so Melody held the baby closer, kissing her head and cheek.

Still rocking the child Melody caught Mycroft watching her, with a small, uncharacteristic smile - something torn between being content and saddened, because as he had been watching her, that ache Melody felt, that longing she felt, Mycroft saw it all, more clearly than ever as their eyes met, and tears shimmered in Melodys jade eyes as a silent understanding passed between them

Melody cuddled baby Rosie Watson to her chest. It was entirely understandable, if not expected...for Melodys’ motherly instinct to be fanned by such close proximity to the child, after all, in the technical sense, Melody was already a mother...she just didn’t have a baby. Not one she could hold and care for like John had Rosie.

All Melody had was the memory of her first pregnancy at 19, and her adoptive brother forcing her to miscarry at 3-4 months.

That, and a black marble gravestone in a cemetery with her second babys’ name and birth/death date, and the patch of grass over the grave to tend and tidy once a week.

Melody made her way to Johns armchair and sat down with Rosie sleeping in her arms

Mycroft spoke quietly so as not to wake her

“Melody, why don’t you put her down, love? I’m sure Dr. Watson has a cot set up in his room…” he suggested.

Melody shook her head, smiling once more

“It’s ok, I’m alright” she insisted, swaying her arms softly with Rosie clenching and relaxing her tiny hands as she slept.

And that was how John found them, Mycroft still in Sherlocks’ chair, watching Melody who had lent back in her seat to hold Rosie more comfortably.

Melody smiled up at John as he reached the side of the armchair, the doctor smiled upon seeing Melody and his sleeping daughter

“Hey, you could have put her down in my room Mel” he told her kindly, Rosie was growing bigger and therefore heavier everyday

Melody smiled

“It’s fine, I don’t mind” she said

John and Mycroft shared an understand glance as Melody kissed Rosies head one last time before getting to her feet

“There we go Rosie, go back to your daddy...there we go.” she crooned softly as she passed her, with great care, back to John.

Mycroft got to his feet and John thanked the pair again, more so Melody than Mycroft simply because he had always struggled to get along with the elder Holmes but still willing to express his gratitude at helping Sherlock handle the situation that had arisen.

Melody and Mycroft left, and John, still holding Rosie, watched from the window as Mycroft opened the back passenger door for his wife before sliding in beside her.

What he didn’t notice was that Sherlock had in fact woken, exactly when would never be known since he appeared to still be sleeping, eyes closed, lying completely still

“Next time get her to babysit and leave me out of it please, especially while Rosie’s teeth are coming through” he requested

John glanced at him before watching the black car pull away

“You sure that’s a good idea, I mean, still looks like Melodys finding it hard” he said

Sherlock sighed

“Ah Watson...you see yet do not observe, any moron could work it out” he stated, saying nothing else as he silently got to his feet, ignoring Johns bemused expression, the detective face planted onto his bed.


End file.
